Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
W atching Nuala hard at work, head bent over her new notebook and the feather-topped pen flying across the pages, was so gratifying. All it had taken was a ten-minute stop at a paper store and a few dollars and she looked as passionate as he’d ever seen her about anything—except for him, that was. The way her eyes got bright when she looked at him would swell any man’s head.
It didn’t take long to put together the simple dinner—he wasn’t making anything from scratch this time, just trying to get them both fed after a long day and before he spent some time getting to know her better tonight. When he said Nuala’s name to tell her dinner was ready, she had a startled expression on her face, like she’d been so wrapped up in her story that it was jarring to be yanked into the real world. He supposed he could’ve been offended, but he wasn’t. Especially with the way she smiled at him.
“I’m having so much fun, Daddy. Thank you.”
“I’m glad, Little girl. I hope we’re going to have more fun after dinner. Can you wipe down the table?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she chirped, and bounced off the stool she’d been perched on.
While she got the cleaning spray and cloths from under the sink, he retrieved the box that had arrived for him today. He brought it over to the counter to open, and then set to washing some of its contents.
When Nuala came back, she tried to peek around his shoulder. “What’s that, Daddy?”
“It’s a surprise for my Little girl, so no snooping. Go wait at the table for Daddy please.”
Her mouth tightened like she might argue. He wouldn’t mind if she got a little bratty with him—it might mean she felt comfortable enough to disobey, which he’d guess she’d never felt with Cabot—but he liked that she acquiesced easily with an adorable little “Yes, Daddy,” and went over to the huge wooden table as she’d been told.
When he was finished, he brought the serving dishes of food over. Then made another trip for a place mat, plate, and cutlery for himself, plus the things he’d had overnighted for Nuala.
He took a seat at the head of the table and patted his thigh. It was a gesture that seemed to mean a lot to both of them, set the scene somehow, started his Little girl down the road to the headspace he wanted her in.
“Come on, Little girl. Time to sit on Daddy’s lap so I can feed you dinner.”
Her sweet pink mouth rounded into an O. Yes, he’d fed her dinner last night, but that had been sitting next to him in her own chair. Well, that hadn’t been close enough to satisfy him, so tonight he’d have her as close as possible.
“Don’t make me ask again, hummingbird. Now, please.”
His gentle but firm request spurred her to action and she sat gingerly on his thigh.
“There’s Daddy’s good girl. Now let’s make sure you don’t get any tomato sauce on this pretty pink shirt of yours.”
He unfolded a bib covered in pastel pink, yellow, and blue flowers and snapped it around his Little girl’s neck. His sweet little bird licked her lips, kicked her feet, and squirmed, even though her hands were folded neatly in her lap.
“You like that, Nono?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, licking her lips again like it was a compulsion.
“Good,” he told her, and then pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I do too. You look adorable. Now let’s get some food in this cute little tummy. Can’t have my Little girl be hungry.”
Having Daddy feed her while she sat on his lap had her plummeting into Little headspace. Which was fun but also a little scary. Being Little was being vulnerable. While she trusted Remy to be kind and keep her safe, it was still nerve-racking. Luckily, the spaghetti and meatballs were tasty and a decent distraction, even as he fed her off his plate with a special fork.
Once he’d determined she’d eaten enough, he dabbed at her mouth with the bib.
“While Daddy cleans up from dinner, why don’t you go put on one of the Little outfits you told me about yesterday?”
“Okay. What for?”
Remy’s easy smile and the way he squeezed the outside of her thigh where his hand had been resting assured her he wasn’t mad about being questioned. That was something she’d have to get used to, but she’d be happy to.
“I’d like to get to know you better,” he told her, coasting his hand up to her neck and then drawing a finger down the open collar of her shirt.
“You, um, know me pretty well already,” she said, her hips shifting on his thigh of their own accord. “Maybe better than anyone.”
Her Daddy flicked open the next button on her shirt, and then the next and the next until her bra was showing.
“And I’d like to get to know you better still,” he said, slipping a hand into her shirt and palming her breast.
He’d kissed her, a lot. Hugged and cuddled her so much. But this was the first time he’d pushed further, even though he’d already seen her naked—bathed her for goodness sake. It had been different then. Intimate and…loving, if she dared use the word, but this was blatantly, overtly sexual, and she was soaked between her thighs. She even had to let out a small moan when he lightly pinched her nipple through the lace of her bra.
“Especially get to know your body,” he murmured against her neck before he kissed her there. “What you like, what turns you on, what gives you pleasure. And I’d like it if you were my Little girl while I do that.”
“I— Oh,” she said when he pinched harder and tugged at the firm bud. “Um, yes, please, Daddy.”
“Okay then,” he told her as he tipped her off his lap and lightly swatted her backside. “I’ll meet you upstairs in fifteen minutes.”
Remy barely remembered loading the dishwasher or washing the pots and pans or wiping down the table. He was sure he’d done all those things, but as he climbed the steps all he could think of was what Nuala might be wearing, and what he was going to do to her.
She responded so beautifully to even the smallest touch, and he couldn’t wait to see what he could get her to feel. They were both going to have a very good time tonight, he’d make sure of it.
He went to the end of the hall and knocked on the door but didn’t wait for a response before walking in. And there she was, standing in the middle of the big room, looking like a little doll.
Black hair in braided pigtails and wearing the sweetest dress he’d ever seen. It was bright yellow, short and ruffly and had a frothy white petticoat underneath to give it some volume. Plus some white knee high socks, and black patent leather shoes with buckles. Yeah, she was just like a character out of one of the books he narrated, and his mouth watered.
He closed the distance between them in a few long strides and slipped an arm around her waist to pull her close.
“I love these,” he told her, tugging at one of her pigtails. “Actually, this whole thing is working for me. In case you couldn’t tell.”
Maybe she couldn’t through her layers of skirts, but his dick was already hard and the slacks he’d worn to the recording studio weren’t doing anything to conceal his hard-on.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Remy scooped her up with an arm under her backside and enjoyed her squeal of surprise. And the next one when he tossed her on the bed.
“I feel bad about undressing you already, but?—”
“Don’t.”
He chuckled at her eagerness. “I won’t, then. But I’m also going to take more time than just shoving up your skirts and going at you.”
Nuala shrugged as well as she could from her supine position, and he laughed again.
“Well if that’s how it is…”
He pushed her skirt and petticoat up to her waist, his breath leaving his body when he saw she wasn’t wearing any panties, and then drew her knees apart. Pink, wet, and welcoming, her pussy was irresistible. He positioned himself on his elbows between her thighs and bent forward to taste her. A single flick of his tongue over her clit had his little hummingbird bucking her hips, and he held her down while he continued to lavish attention on her sweet, swollen cunt.
She was already panting, and when he slipped a finger inside her, she moaned. Adding a second one because she was plenty wet to take it, Remy kept licking, then took her pearl of a clit into his mouth to suck while he thrust his fingers deep.
“Oh! Yes, Daddy, please. Please. I-I’m gonna— Oh!”
A gush of liquid met his tongue, and he felt her internal muscles pulse around his fingers. Either he was a goddamn erotic genius, Nuala had already been seriously turned on from their play earlier, or Cabot had been a cold son of a bitch and she’d been storing up that orgasm for years. Maybe a bit of all three.